41 Vhalar, 724
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It was a warm night and one that young Kotton would never forget. He was wandering the streets of Almund with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket when a burly man came tumbling out from behind a decrepit-looking building.
He noticed the disturbance before it occurred, sparing himself from being tackled to the ground. Instead of shouting at him and spewing out insults, he simply sneered before pressing on through the vast and treacherous city of drunks, prostitutes, criminals and the penniless. Okay, maybe Alumnd wasn’t entirely full of all that, but it’s history made a name for itself, and it was of a less-than-ideal population.
He had lately been haunted by a nightmare or two, but none that he could remember. Frankly, this was probably because he hadn’t slept for the past forty-eight hours, or at least he hadn’t slept well. He had started dozing into dreamless slumbers for short amounts of time before jolting awake to find himself by strange noises he was still trying to accustom himself to. Was that his front door opening down the hall? Had Spirit started hacking and thrown up her supper? Was there a leak dripping in his bathroom?
His mind had been feeling full as of late, like he had a head cold with a stuffy nose that would not clear no matter which side he laid on. He had been thinking about so much recently from him reconnecting with his grandfather, to him being newly initiated into _________, and Imogen’s passing.
Attempting to clear his head of the fullness, he had begun strolling throughout the city during dawn when the sun struck the high of the sky and pierced its vivacious rays of molten destruction down upon the fragile and frail earth. He was often seen wandering aimlessly through the bleakness of the night as well, when the moon’s tentative rays of glowing embers danced overhead. Whichever otherworldly orb inhabited the sky, he was sure to experience some sense of empathy: he was lonely too, only unlike the sun or the moon, he didn’t have stars surrounding him to offer more light.
Tonight was one of those grueling nights when his mind was chalk-full of disastrous thoughts and emotions apart from feeling alone. It was deleterious that he contemplate things so deeply and philosophically, especially when there was no one around for him to bounce his ideas off of. So instead of being expressed, they remained in stasis, scarring him, marring him and occasionally burdening him with their caliginosity.
Currently, he was sauntering through the streets and up and down alleyways without ulterior motive. His mind had just finished going through another cycle of overthinking and catastrophizing as his body took control and waltzed him further into the depths of town. Soon, he was rounding a corner and materializing in front of a large and obtrusive obstacle: a man with a grotesque beard ubiquitously decorated with crumbs and debris. He had stumbled out from a side alleyway and into his path. He was obviously drunk, his belly extensive with the liquid sloshing around inside and his mouth was moving, muttering, mumbling absolute nonsense as he fumbled from the shadows and into his view.
They ran into each other, Kotton colliding with his bestiary form and falling to the ground, his rear quickly becoming saturated with the wet pavement underfoot. The drunk was licking his lips and groaning, staring down at him with eyes the colour of the rising sun: warm yellow, and irresolute as though scanning for purchase as to the consequences he had just caused.
Kotton grunted as he heaved himself up from the ground and dusted his backside of any loose gravel. He held his tongue even though he wished to all immortals he could have cursed until his tongue fell off. Not only had he been under such stress lately and not only had he just experienced the loss of a loved one (two if you counted his mom a couple seasons ago), he had encountered so many instances of people lacking self-awareness that his blood had gone from a simmer to a full-on boiling with frustration.[/knowledge skill]
“S-soooorry, pal,” the drunk man said without much sincerity since he was smirking during his apology. He was also holding his hands up in mock surrender like it was a joke and he was fairly certain Kotton wouldn’t do anything reckless like hit him over the head because of his unsuitable behaviour. He then raised a hand and placed it on one of Kotton’s shoulders. He shrugged it off, feelings of overstimulation making it very difficult for him to do anything more, and watched him with inconclusive orbs.
“Don’t touch me,” he seethed before sizing him up and adjusting himself to appear taller and larger than he really was. He wanted to intimidate this man, to nonverbally tell him to fuck off and find someone else to play with. He gravitated his centre of balance in a forward position, hoping that by learning closer to him, it would make him seem less intimidated and more intimidating. As an afterthought, Kotton also made sure that his eyebrows were slanted at a downward angle. This gave the impression that he was angry and in no mood for trivial things. Next came the lip curl. He always had a hard time getting this right, but he tried anyway, curling both upper and bottom lip dowards so that a frown of less sorrow and more disgruntlement was obvious. This, with the narrowing of his eyes, made him seem more likely to fear than if he were to simply stand back and make a disapproving face which he would have done lest he was one sip short of confidence.
The effect he was going for didn’t happen, unfortunately, as the drunk man was oblivious. “But you look so lovely,” he slurred, eyelashes fluttering in a routine of dance.
Kotton was now beyond being disciplined and controlling of himself. He growled in protest, which, naturally, only made the man more voracious. The drunk man took a step forward and forcibly laced one of his hands in Kotton’s. Kotton was easily provoked now. How dare he touch me, lest invade my personal space, he thought loudly to himself before taking a step to the right and slamming his dominant foot down against one of his assailants. Unwanted touch was the same as battery as far as the young man was concerned, so he felt no remorse for his actions. Once his foot had made contact against the drunk man’s, he pivoted on his other foot and turned, jutting out his elbow and allowing it to aggressively slide into the man’s side. Only after a resounding cry filled his ears did Kotton feel more at ease and able to flee the scene.
He kept a watchful eye towards every corner he passed henceforth. He became more vigilant, a trait he found more crucial after such an unpleasant experience. It made him ponder why he was even out this late taking a stroll in Almund of all places. Were the common streets of Scalvoris not enough? Was he wanting confrontation? Or was he just stupid. Surely he hadn’t had that[/it] much to drink. Perhaps his personality was changing, adapting to the experiences he had to live through. Perhaps having endured the loss of loved ones, the frustration of simple-minded folks, and the unrelenting stress he had been under did this to a person. He couldn’t pin-point the exact reason for his actions, but coincidentally, he didn’t much care.
“Do I look lovely now?” he nearly yelled as he manouevered his way around the large obstacle that was the man, speeding off through the nearest alleyway and rounding yet another corner into what might as well have been utter oblivion.
The only thing that mattered now was that he fled from the drunk man and he had fled with feelings of success. Kotton felt prosperous that he had not only held his ground, but put someone in their place after they had performed some form of wrong-doing. Justice was a very important factor for him to consider. Justice and fairness was up there in the top five things he valued. So having done what he had done, having stood his ground, having defended against himself, having spoken his feelings relating to the whole situation, it was all in line with his virtues.
Kotton had only taken another step from the scene when he heard a booming voice call out. This situation wasn’t done just yet and that was made certain from a look over his shoulder where the same large and brutish man came rushing toward him, taking Kotton by surprise.
Hadn’t he displayed enough barbarity to this man? Was respect still not learned? Shouldn’t this fat slob of humanity be crawling back to his lodgings now that he had been taught a valuable lesson to not touch people without their permission?
Kotton righted himself, feet shoulder width apart, and looked dead on at his oncoming assailant. Guess not, he thought emotionlessly. Guess not.
He noticed the disturbance before it occurred, sparing himself from being tackled to the ground. Instead of shouting at him and spewing out insults, he simply sneered before pressing on through the vast and treacherous city of drunks, prostitutes, criminals and the penniless. Okay, maybe Alumnd wasn’t entirely full of all that, but it’s history made a name for itself, and it was of a less-than-ideal population.
He had lately been haunted by a nightmare or two, but none that he could remember. Frankly, this was probably because he hadn’t slept for the past forty-eight hours, or at least he hadn’t slept well. He had started dozing into dreamless slumbers for short amounts of time before jolting awake to find himself by strange noises he was still trying to accustom himself to. Was that his front door opening down the hall? Had Spirit started hacking and thrown up her supper? Was there a leak dripping in his bathroom?
His mind had been feeling full as of late, like he had a head cold with a stuffy nose that would not clear no matter which side he laid on. He had been thinking about so much recently from him reconnecting with his grandfather, to him being newly initiated into _________, and Imogen’s passing.
Attempting to clear his head of the fullness, he had begun strolling throughout the city during dawn when the sun struck the high of the sky and pierced its vivacious rays of molten destruction down upon the fragile and frail earth. He was often seen wandering aimlessly through the bleakness of the night as well, when the moon’s tentative rays of glowing embers danced overhead. Whichever otherworldly orb inhabited the sky, he was sure to experience some sense of empathy: he was lonely too, only unlike the sun or the moon, he didn’t have stars surrounding him to offer more light.
Tonight was one of those grueling nights when his mind was chalk-full of disastrous thoughts and emotions apart from feeling alone. It was deleterious that he contemplate things so deeply and philosophically, especially when there was no one around for him to bounce his ideas off of. So instead of being expressed, they remained in stasis, scarring him, marring him and occasionally burdening him with their caliginosity.
Currently, he was sauntering through the streets and up and down alleyways without ulterior motive. His mind had just finished going through another cycle of overthinking and catastrophizing as his body took control and waltzed him further into the depths of town. Soon, he was rounding a corner and materializing in front of a large and obtrusive obstacle: a man with a grotesque beard ubiquitously decorated with crumbs and debris. He had stumbled out from a side alleyway and into his path. He was obviously drunk, his belly extensive with the liquid sloshing around inside and his mouth was moving, muttering, mumbling absolute nonsense as he fumbled from the shadows and into his view.
They ran into each other, Kotton colliding with his bestiary form and falling to the ground, his rear quickly becoming saturated with the wet pavement underfoot. The drunk was licking his lips and groaning, staring down at him with eyes the colour of the rising sun: warm yellow, and irresolute as though scanning for purchase as to the consequences he had just caused.
Kotton grunted as he heaved himself up from the ground and dusted his backside of any loose gravel. He held his tongue even though he wished to all immortals he could have cursed until his tongue fell off. Not only had he been under such stress lately and not only had he just experienced the loss of a loved one (two if you counted his mom a couple seasons ago), he had encountered so many instances of people lacking self-awareness that his blood had gone from a simmer to a full-on boiling with frustration.[/knowledge skill]
“S-soooorry, pal,” the drunk man said without much sincerity since he was smirking during his apology. He was also holding his hands up in mock surrender like it was a joke and he was fairly certain Kotton wouldn’t do anything reckless like hit him over the head because of his unsuitable behaviour. He then raised a hand and placed it on one of Kotton’s shoulders. He shrugged it off, feelings of overstimulation making it very difficult for him to do anything more, and watched him with inconclusive orbs.
“Don’t touch me,” he seethed before sizing him up and adjusting himself to appear taller and larger than he really was. He wanted to intimidate this man, to nonverbally tell him to fuck off and find someone else to play with. He gravitated his centre of balance in a forward position, hoping that by learning closer to him, it would make him seem less intimidated and more intimidating. As an afterthought, Kotton also made sure that his eyebrows were slanted at a downward angle. This gave the impression that he was angry and in no mood for trivial things. Next came the lip curl. He always had a hard time getting this right, but he tried anyway, curling both upper and bottom lip dowards so that a frown of less sorrow and more disgruntlement was obvious. This, with the narrowing of his eyes, made him seem more likely to fear than if he were to simply stand back and make a disapproving face which he would have done lest he was one sip short of confidence.
The effect he was going for didn’t happen, unfortunately, as the drunk man was oblivious. “But you look so lovely,” he slurred, eyelashes fluttering in a routine of dance.
Kotton was now beyond being disciplined and controlling of himself. He growled in protest, which, naturally, only made the man more voracious. The drunk man took a step forward and forcibly laced one of his hands in Kotton’s. Kotton was easily provoked now. How dare he touch me, lest invade my personal space, he thought loudly to himself before taking a step to the right and slamming his dominant foot down against one of his assailants. Unwanted touch was the same as battery as far as the young man was concerned, so he felt no remorse for his actions. Once his foot had made contact against the drunk man’s, he pivoted on his other foot and turned, jutting out his elbow and allowing it to aggressively slide into the man’s side. Only after a resounding cry filled his ears did Kotton feel more at ease and able to flee the scene.
He kept a watchful eye towards every corner he passed henceforth. He became more vigilant, a trait he found more crucial after such an unpleasant experience. It made him ponder why he was even out this late taking a stroll in Almund of all places. Were the common streets of Scalvoris not enough? Was he wanting confrontation? Or was he just stupid. Surely he hadn’t had that[/it] much to drink. Perhaps his personality was changing, adapting to the experiences he had to live through. Perhaps having endured the loss of loved ones, the frustration of simple-minded folks, and the unrelenting stress he had been under did this to a person. He couldn’t pin-point the exact reason for his actions, but coincidentally, he didn’t much care.
“Do I look lovely now?” he nearly yelled as he manouevered his way around the large obstacle that was the man, speeding off through the nearest alleyway and rounding yet another corner into what might as well have been utter oblivion.
The only thing that mattered now was that he fled from the drunk man and he had fled with feelings of success. Kotton felt prosperous that he had not only held his ground, but put someone in their place after they had performed some form of wrong-doing. Justice was a very important factor for him to consider. Justice and fairness was up there in the top five things he valued. So having done what he had done, having stood his ground, having defended against himself, having spoken his feelings relating to the whole situation, it was all in line with his virtues.
Kotton had only taken another step from the scene when he heard a booming voice call out. This situation wasn’t done just yet and that was made certain from a look over his shoulder where the same large and brutish man came rushing toward him, taking Kotton by surprise.
Hadn’t he displayed enough barbarity to this man? Was respect still not learned? Shouldn’t this fat slob of humanity be crawling back to his lodgings now that he had been taught a valuable lesson to not touch people without their permission?
Kotton righted himself, feet shoulder width apart, and looked dead on at his oncoming assailant. Guess not, he thought emotionlessly. Guess not.